


Five Minutes to Midnight

by PhakeFysics



Series: Fallen Hero - Abyss/Anton [7]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 12:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20291710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhakeFysics/pseuds/PhakeFysics





	Five Minutes to Midnight

It was drizzling now, after a long day of pelting rain. The night was a bit warm and humid, but the breeze this high up on an apartment high rise was perfect for keeping the heat away - keeping it trapped between the maze of buildings below.

You turn the handle to the roof access, giving a smirk at finding the lock already dealt with. However, you know the basic tricks any decent Sniper employs, and you coax your nanovores to simply eat the trigger on the door bomb. You’ll make it up later, but right now you had a deal with up hold.

Your HUD alerts you to faint, but present vital signs, coaxing your vision to the far corner of the roof. It’s hard to make out the huddled figure, but the long barrel of a deadly rifle hanging ever so slightly over the ledge makes you grin as you silently close the door. 

You watch silently to see if Killjoy will notice you. You don’t want to startle him, except that you’ve given yourself until midnight. Tick tock, the seconds slide past on the corner of your HUD. The rain hides your footsteps, even if you were trying to be loud. It’s in your nature to move silently, almost sliding between the rain.

Killjoy’s vitals are steady, his breathing slow and even. He’s lining up his sights. On what, you’re not sure. You look out over Los Diablos, moving to silently crouch on the ledge, heels down, elbows on your knees. You’re feeling exceedingly generous and you’d like to see if he was actually worth a damn other than making himself dizzy in an office chair…

You tried searching files on Killjoy, finding intel sparse or non existent. Even more of a shade than you. Then again… Your calling card was… exceptionally loud. 

Your gaze is caught as Killjoy moves only to adjust his scope, coping for bullet drop and rain. All important factors any Sniper worth their salt needed to account for.

Three minutes. Warned your HUD. 

Come on, Killjoy. Take the damn shot. You stay there, stock still, mirror face staring out over Los Diablos. 

The concussive sound rings out, your suit immediately jumping to dampen the sudden noise to your left. You look over at Killjoy, vitals reading a long and silent sigh, muscles relaxing. 

You stay there, waiting for him to recover and the digital eyes flick over to you. You can only assume the gargled hiss is a yelp of surprise as Killjoy stands, moving to backpedal, the back of his knees hitting the edge. 

You shoot your hand out and grab him by the scarf to keep him from tumbling to his death. Can’t have that.  
“Evening,” your icy voice purrs as you release Killjoy and stand in one fluid motion, “Hit your target?” you inquire, thankful the voice distortion in your helmet makes all your words sound neutral,cold, yes imposing and dangerous, like black ice.

Killjoy huffs, adjusting his scarf, then moving to sling his gun across his shoulders. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he quips in that antagonistic voice.

You stand there, a glare hiding behind your helm, “I’m upholding my deal. You have two minutes and thirty seconds to move the hell away from here,” he grunt, the noise coming out as some unearthly hiss. 

You step up onto the ledge, teetering right on the edge of death once more. “Hope you’re as fast as you are a good shot,” you sneer, watching Killjoy tense.

Offering a mock salute, you tip back, falling off the edge of the highrise without a care. Killjoy tenses, watching you voluntarily toss yourself over. 

It’s not a problem for you. Your jump boosters in your suit slow your fall and you land with a hard thud, but no worse for wear. 

One minute. 

You hope he knows how to make himself exceedingly scarce in an exceedingly short amount of time.

Forty-five seconds.

You slink between the dark alleys, your route already mapped and secured. To be fair, you weren’t blowing up the apartment… just the building next to it. You’re not _that_ cruel… most days. Civilians weren’t on your list of priorities. You needed civilians for your plans. No point in killing them.

Five…

Four…

Three...

You pull out the detonator, still walking away.

Two…

One…

_ **B O O M!** _


End file.
